Midnight Dreary
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: Kingsley tries to convince Remus to take care of himself, but he recognizes that there are demons his friend has to overcome. Remus&Kingsley friendship. Thanks to Angel for the cover!


**A/N: Hey y'all! Some Remus&Kingsley friendship for you. Takes place during the sixth book, while Remus is with the werewolves. **

**Word Count: 1206**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those right go to JK Rowling. **

**WARNINGS: Injury, language**

**The quote in the beginning is from **_**The Raven**_**, by Edgar Allan Poe.**

**Enjoy!**

"_Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary"_

* * *

LIghtning flashed outside, and Kingsley woke with a start from where he'd been sleeping in an armchair. He shivered, chills erupting over his arms. He hadn't meant to nod off, but the day had left him exhausted, and it was getting late.

Still, he was expecting a guest. Kingsley ran a hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up a bit. Outside the storm was raging, and Kingsley winced in sympathy for whoever had the misfortune to be caught in it.

Kingsley got to his feet and walked over to the window. He wished he was home with his wife and daughters… but Mad-Eye had asked him to stay in a cottage in the middle of the woods for a week, ready to take Remus' report.

The problem was, Remus had never come by. It was midnight now, which meant the week was up; there was still no sign of Remus. Kingsley's stomach twisted. Anything could have happened to the other man.

Kingsley decided to give him another hour before delivering any bad news to the rest of the Order.

The last thing they needed was another death on their hands.

* * *

He'd nearly fallen asleep again when there was a knock at the door.

At first, Kingsley thought it might have been part of a dream, it was so faint. But the sound came again, more insistently. Kingsley grabbed his wand and scrambled to his feet. He reached the door quickly, and, remembering protocol, called out to whoever was on the other side.

"Who's there?"

"It is I, Remus John Lupin," a weak voice answered. "Last month, you and I shared a gin after a surveillance mission went—ah."

Kingsley had thrown open the door. His black eyes raked over Remus, taking him in. "You look awful, Remus."

"I'm flattered," Remus responded dryly. But his voice was hoarse, as though he'd been screaming.

Kingsley took in the bruises dotting Remus' pale skin, the raw wounds, the dried blood in his hair, the shadows under his eyes—everything—with a heavy heart. If Tonks knew, it would devastate her.

"Come in, quickly," Kingsley said softly. "I think I have some potions on stock that might help."

Remus closed his eyes, and Kingsley was struck by how corpse-like it made him. "You don't have to do that, Kingsley."

"That's bullshit and you know it," the older man said sternly. "Come inside and sit down."

Remus gave in, shuffling inside as though he was trying not to aggravate his injuries. Kingsley watched him from the corner of his eye while he went to grab the medical supplies. He noticed that Remus took a seat as close as he could to the roaring fire—and that the man was shivering.

Tonks would have tried to seize him and shake sense into him. Kingsley knew that Remus couldn't be forced to do anything. With a sigh, he approached the younger man.

"Take off your shirt, Remus. I need to apply the salve."

Remus froze, stiff-backed. "I'll do that myself, Kingsley. I'm just here to give the report."

"Like hell you are. Work with me, Remus. You're no good to anyone if you're dead."

Remus winced, then reluctantly shed his shirt. When Kingsley saw the extent of his injuries, he sucked in a breath.

"Greyback likes to… stake his claims," Remus muttered, seeming almost desperate to offer an explanation. "I'm okay."

Kingsley scooped some salve onto his fingers and spread it gently over one fresh, pink scar; one of many. "How many are there?" Then he swallowed. "Actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Remus didn't respond, so Kingsley did the rest of the healing in silence. The more he saw, though, the more determined he was to keep Remus from Greyback.

"You can't go back there, Remus," he said firmly at one point. "He's malicious, and the information you're gleaning isn't worth you life."

Remus stared at him miserably, and it struck Kingsley, suddenly, that this man of thirty-six had seen and experienced more than most one hundred and fifty year old wizards.

"Kingsley… I have to go back. No matter the consequences, I have to go back."

Kingsley looked at him sharply. "Remus, no. Albus won't like this. No one will like this."

"They don't have to like it. It's my decision."

Kingsley stared into Remus' amber eyes, appalled. "Remus…" he whispered, "this isn't… this isn't healthy. Why would you choose to go back?"

"It's—it's the right thing to do. The Order needs this information. The war depends on it."

Kingsley cocked a brow. "I have two little girls, Remus. I know when I'm being lied to."

He began wrapping the worst wounds in bandages, careful not to jostle Remus too badly. Remus ran a hand through his greying hair, wincing when his fingers snagged on clumps glued together with blood.

"Greyback…" Remus' breathing was ragged. "Greyback was the one who bit me. It… wasn't an accident."

Kingsley looked up sharply at this news but he was careful to keep the horror out of his expression, lest Remus clam up. He could sense that there was more. "And?"

Remus closed his eyes. "I'm tired of being afraid of him. I need to stay there until—"

"Until what?" Kingsley prodded gently. "Until you've trained yourself not to feel an inkling of fear when he's around? Until you don't find him a threat?"

Remus just looked at him. It was startling to realize that one of the most put-together people of the Order was about to come undone, but Kingsley was determined to be strong for the man who was always strong for everyone else.

"That's never going to happen, Remus," Kingsley told him. "It's not going to happen because Greyback scares everyone, and he will always be a threat. You've been plenty brave, and he knows that. He's tried to break you" —Kingsley gestured to Remus' shredded chest— "and he's failed. More than once, by the looks of things." He met Remus' eyes. "You won this time."

Remus shuddered and looked away. Kingsley knew the other man would ponder his words and decided not to push his luck for the night. He converted the sofa into a bed, then patted the space invitingly. If he'd thought Remus would take the bed, he'd have offered it.

When Remus came over, Kingsley gathered up his things. "Get some rest. I'll let the others know you're all right, and then you can talk to me in the morning. And Remus?"

Remus glanced over. "Hmm?"

Kingsley dropped a hand on Remus' shoulder. "You don't have to prove anything to any of us," he said, voice thick as he grieved the injustices his friend had been dealt. "We know who you are. We know what you've done."

Remus inhaled, then exhaled shakily. "I think it's more about proving something to myself. But… thank you, Kingsley."

Kingsley just nodded. He reluctantly left the other man to himself, but he knew that Remus had to decide to save himself. He had to overcome his own demons.

Maybe, given time and space, he'd finally be able to put his past behind him and look to the future.


End file.
